


Shallow Hal AU

by Calamity123



Category: Law & Order: SVU
Genre: Barisi - Freeform, F/F, F/M, Genderbending, Inspired by and directly stolen from Shallow Hal, Not really?????, Other, Shallow Hal AU, Sort of????????
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-06-04
Updated: 2019-06-03
Packaged: 2020-04-07 14:15:55
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,280
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19086739
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Calamity123/pseuds/Calamity123
Summary: The story revolves around Rafael who, taking his dying father's advice, dates only the embodiments of female physical perfection. But that all changes after Rafael has an unexpected run-in with self-help guru Fin Tutuola. Intrigued by Rafael's odd method of overcompensation, Tutuola hypnotizes him into seeing compatible partners in packages that he finds easy to engage.





	Shallow Hal AU

**Author's Note:**

> I s2g this isn't a deep exploration of gender or anything, it's all lighthearted 
> 
> ily all

“Mrs. Barba,” said the doctor said somberly. Lucia Barba clutched her purse tightly to her side and patted her son’s hand. A young Rafael Barba tried to overhear the conversation between his mother and his father’s doctor from across the hospital waiting room. 

“It won’t be much longer, Mrs. Barba,” said the doctor. 

Rafael watched his mother’s face fall, “Is he in a lot of pain?” she asked. 

“No. No, no,” the doctor assured her. 

Shame, Rafael thought. 

“There’ll be no more pain for your husband. He’s heavily sedated,” the doctor said. 

“Okay,” Lucia whispered, “I think I’m going to go settle little Rafi in now.” 

“No,” the doctor said sternly. “I don’t think that’s a good idea. With all the painkillers, he isn’t exactly himself.”

“I think my boy has a right to say goodbye to his father. The man means everything in the world to him,” Lucia said, tears pricking her eyes. 

Everything in the world, my ass, Rafael thought. Rafael loved his mother with a vengeance, but she was blind. He could see the bruises on her skin and the devil in his father’s eyes. 

“It’s your call,” the doctor said. 

…

The doctor tapped on a door that read Fernando Barba on a hanging dry-erase board. “Mr. Barba,” he said, “Your son is here.” 

“Send her in,” Rafael’s father slurred. Rafael had absolutely no idea if that was the drugs or just his father’s perverse sense of humor talking. Fernando let out a hacking cough. 

Rafael steeled his spine and entered the room, praying to God that it would be the last time he had to see his father alive. He took solace in the fact that his father was completely powerless and his physique showed it. Fernando’s once dark, luscious hair was thin and graying. His thick frame had grown scrawny, and his dark Cuban skin was pallid. Rafael wrinkled his nose at the bag of piss hanging from the bottom of his father’s hospital bed. 

The entire room smelled like death and Rafael couldn’t wait for him to get on with it. 

Rafael reluctantly approached the bed. “Glad you’re here, kiddo,” Fernando bellowed, sounding for all the world like he was drunk. Kiddo? Rafael thought, that’s new. 

“Got a few things to tell you,” Fernando said, pointing a shaky finger at Rafael. “First, I want you to promise me that no matter what you do in life you’ll never break your mother’s heart. And two, never let my ghost catch you with some guy’s dick up your ass.” 

“What?” Rafael startled took a step back. His father was a drunk and a wife-beater, but he’d never heard anything so crass leave his mouth. Foul or not, Rafael knew exactly where it came from. Fernando had caught him kissing his best friend Alex in their apartment stairwell weeks before. Fernando saw the boys, grunted, and staggered the rest of the way up the stairs. When nothing ever came of it, Rafael assumed that his father was too drunk to remember what he’d seen – until that moment. 

“Don’t do what I did,” Fernando continued. “I married for love, and your mother Elina – it’s been a nightmare.” 

“Mom’s name is Lucia,” Rafael said, feeling his blood grow hot. 

“Listen to me, I’m giving you pearls here,” Fernando said. “Third, find yourself a classic beauty with a perfect can and great toddies – that’s what a man needs. It’s not right to want another man. Hot, young tail is what it’s all about,” Fernando said. 

“Hot,” his head dropped to the pillow. 

“Young,” his eyes drooped closed. 

“Tail,” he said in barely a whisper. 

The heart monitor screamed a long, continuous beep, signifying that the Barbas were free of Fernando once and for all. 

“I’ll make you proud, Papí,” Rafael said sarcastically, rolling his eyes. He turned on his heel and never saw Fernando again. 

…

Rafael tossed back a shot of tequila without his crotch breaking contact with the ass of the hot young thing he was grinding on. 

The lower East Manhattan club was a perfect spot for Friday night cruising. The low lighting and free-flowing alcohol practically erased the wrinkles from around his eyes and the gray streaks from his hair. He knew that he was too old for this type of behavior, but hey, if the girls are willing, what does he have to lose? 

The girl was pulled away by a group of her friends and Rafael danced across the crowded floor, scanning for a new target. He took notice of his friend Rita trying to dance with a tall younger guy.

“Get lost,” the guy said, pushing past Rita. Rafael veered back to his friend and co-worker. They used to troll bars and clubs together before Rita finally decided that she needed to settle down. 

“What’s up, Rita?” Rafael yelled over the club’s music. “How’s the crowd tonight?” 

“I got a few bites,” she said. Rafael knew full well that Rita was a token dance floor over-sharer and had probably scared off the guy with talk about her sick cat or something equally as heinous. 

“Can I buy you a drink?” Rafael asked. 

“I won’t say no to that,” Rita said. 

The pair sidled up to the bar. “Two beers,” Rafael said. “I didn’t expect to see you here. Where is – Tristan, was it?”

“Trey, actually, and I didn’t tell him I was going out tonight,” Rita said, looking anywhere but Rafael’s eyes. 

“Why not? Things okay with you guys?” Rafael asked. 

“Well, yeah. A little too okay, if you know what I mean. I’m going to break up with him.”

“Why’s that?” Rafael asks.

“We’re sitting there and his feet are up on the couch, right? And I notice that his second toe is, like, half an inch longer than his first toe,” Rita says. 

“What?” Rafael asks incredulously. “You’re breaking up with him over that?” 

“I don’t need that shit in my life,” Rita laughs humorlessly. “What about you, did you get that big promotion?” 

“I hear about that tomorrow, actually. Listen, I’m actually going to head out. I’m going to try to catch my neighbor Olivia on the way home. Maybe see if she wants to get a drink,” Rafael says. 

“If I know you, that’s not all she’ll be getting,” Rita elbows him in the ribs. 

“Yeah, yeah, I’ll see you later, Rita,” Rafael drops a tip on the bar and pulls out his phone to get an Uber. 

…

“No,” Olivia says firmly. 

“No? Why not?” Rafael asks, struggling to keep up with her long strides towards their apartment building. 

“I don’t want to have a drink with you. I want to go home. Is that so hard to understand?” she said, exasperated. 

“Hey, hey, what’s going on. Are you mad or something?” Rafael asks. 

“No, I’m not mad. I just,” Olivia hesitated. “Raf, I’m not attracted to you.” 

“So just like that, we’re breaking up?” Rafael asked, his eyebrows rising to his hairline. 

Olivia scoffed, “Rafael, we were never going out. We had one date.” 

“Fair point,” he said, “But come on. Just stay with me five days, Liv.” 

“What’s in five days?” she asked. 

“I get my big promotion tomorrow,” Rafael said. “Parties, dinners, I need you there.” 

“Rafael, you’ll be so busy that you won’t even think about me,” Olivia said, trying to extricate herself as gently as possible. 

“Liv, how could I not think about you? You live right across the hall,” Rafael pressed. 

“Then maybe you should consider moving, Raf.” Olivia shot him a pitiful smile and left him alone outside their apartment. 

… 

“Rafael,” Buchanan said, “We’ve made a decision regarding the firm partner.” 

“Yes!” Rafael exclaimed, leaping out of his chair. “And it’s about time, John.” 

“We decided to go with Minonna Efron. She’s… well, she’s a wolf in sheep’s clothing. She looks, honestly, a mess. But put her behind a defense table and she’ll surprise you,” Buchanan mused. “Sorry, man.” 

“Oh,” Rafael said, white-knuckling his chair. “Don’t be. She’s a wolf in sheep’s clothing, what the hell is there to do?” 

With a plastered-on smile and a parting handshake, Rafael made his way to the office kitchen where Rita was waiting for him. 

“You should’ve gotten it,” Rita said immediately at seeing Rafael’s face.

“No,” Rafael said, falling into a chair. “I didn’t put them in a position where they had to make me partner or lose me. It’s a good lesson. Making yourself indispensable is the key.” 

Rita passed him a cup of lukewarm coffee and sat on the table across from him. 

“And to make matters worse,” Rafael said, “Olivia broke up with me last night.” 

Rita let out an involuntary chuckle. “Sorry, but don’t you have to be dating to break up?” she asked, fighting away laughter. She shook her head and composed herself. “Olivia wasn’t right for you and you know it,” she said. “Her tits aren’t even real.”

“Yeah, that’s kind of the point,” Rafael grumbled into his mug. 

“Rafael, has it ever occurred to you that picking women based on their looks might not be the best way to go about it?” Rita asked. 

“What?” Rafael asked. “Am I supposed to apologize for having high standards?”

“High standards? Are you kidding? In the twenty-five years I’ve known you, all of the women – I should really say girls – you’ve gone after have been way out of your league. You feel the need to have the most, uh, feminine women as possible – almost like you’re overcompensating,” Rita said. 

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Rafael asked. 

“Nothing. It means you aren’t that good looking,” Rita said. “You’re old, for one thing, and the everything about you shows it. You’re fat. So fat, in fact, that you have your own tits. You’re short. When you’re more than a week out from a trip to the tanning salon your skin gets so ashy, it’s yellow,” Rita rose. “It’s time to face the music, cupcake,” she said, landing a hard slap on his shoulder. “You need to evaluate what it is that you really want.” 

… 

Rafael stepped into the elevator and slouched against the wall. The only other person in the elevator nodded at him and Rafael leapt upright. 

“Hey, you’re Fin Tutuola. You’re the TV guru guy,” Rafael said, sticking his hand out for a handshake. 

“I’m a huge fan,” he said. “Look at the size of your hands. You must do really well with the ladies,” Rafael winked and immediately cringed. 

“Just one,” Fin said. 

Rafael felt his insides constrict and wanted to justify his awkwardness by telling Fin what a horrible day he’d had. He managed instead to choke out, “What are you doing in town?”

Before Fin could answer, the elevator lights flashed off and back on as it jolted to a stop. 

“God,” Rafael shouted, “Fin, are you okay?” 

“Yeah, man. Relax. The elevator just stopped.” Fin tapped the call button. When nothing happened after a moment, he tapped the alarm button. “Nothing,” he said. 

“Then we might as well get comfortable,” Rafael said and lowered himself to the floor. “Who knows how long we’ll be stuck in here.” 

…

As it turns out, it was easy for Rafael to open up to Fin in the small confines of their elevator. Be it the intimate proximity or just the pressure to fill the silence, Rafael didn’t know. But he laid out his life’s story for Fin, starting with the day his father first called him a sissy and finishing with his latest in failed conquests. 

“She broke up with me,” Rafael said. “Just flat out.” 

“It sounds like you’ve had a rough go with relationships,” Fin said. 

“I don’t know,” Rafael hesitated, “it’s just that I’m picky.” 

“What do you mean ‘picky?’” Fin asked. 

“I guess I just like a specific type of woman. Curvy, and I mean real curvy. Not a fat girl who just calls herself that to feel better. Big tits that are also perky; I would guesstimate a D cup at minimum. Long hair – blonde, if you’ve got it,” Rafael stopped to think. “Small hands.” 

“Raf, don’t you think that’s a little shallow?” Fin asked. 

Rafael shrugged his shoulders. “Nah, I want her to be cultured and shit, too,” he said. 

Fin slammed his head back against the elevator wall frustrated. “Okay, man,” he said, “different track: which to you prefer? A girlfriend with all of those things, but she’s missing half of her brain? Or a boyfriend?” 

“That’s ridiculous,” Rafael said a beat too quickly. “I don’t like what you’re implying.” 

“Hey, man, it was just a question,” Fin said, putting his hands up in surrender. “What about your parents? How is your relationship with them?” 

“It’s great. My mom is the principal of a charter school, she likes to cook. I don’t remember a lot about my dad because he died when I was nine,” Rafael said. 

“Nine? That’s kinda odd. You should remember a lot,” Fin said quizzically. 

“Yeah,” Rafael said, wishing the elevator would just start up again. “My mom thinks I might have been a little traumatized by him. I just remember him teaching me right from wrong… in his own way, I guess.” 

“Look, man, you seem like a good guy. Just a little hung up on appearances,” Fin said. “I’m going to do you a favor.”

Rafael narrowed his eyes. 

“Let me finish,” Fin said. “From now on, when you meet someone, you’re only going to see what’s inside them. You’ll respond to that, because that, my friend, is where the true beauty lies.”

“Okay, dude, I think you’re getting a little cabin fever,” Rafael said with a chuckle, “Is this what you do in your seminars?” 

“No, man, this is special. This is between you and me.” Fin said, “With this trick, you’re going to get the most beautiful people in the world.” 

“Right,” Rafael said, rolling his eyes. 

“Listen. This is how it works,” Fin said, pulling Rafael reluctantly to his feet. “From now on, you’re not going to see people’s external appearance. You’re going to look deep into their soul, and you’re going to see that beauty reflected on the outside. That way you don’t have appearances clouding your judgement. Make sense?” he said. 

Luckily for Rafael in that moment, the elevator jolted back to life. 

“Yeah,” he said, offering a handshake to Fin as the elevator finishing its descent. “Thanks, man.” 

…

Moments later, Rafael emerged from the lobby of his office building into the bustling Manhattan street. He hailed threw his hand up and a bright yellow cab pulled over in front of him. 

As Rafael reached to open the door, his hand collided with another. Rafael trailed his eyes from the hand, up the arm, and finally found a face belonging to the most stunning woman he had surely ever seen. 

Bright blue eyes stared back at him, and long black hair fell in soft waves as the woman shook her head. “I’m so sorry,” she said, looking mortified. 

“Hey, no,” Rafael said. “I’ll catch the next one.” 

“Really? Thank you,” the women opened the cab door and began to climb in. “Actually,” she amended, “I’m just headed over to the East Side, we could share?” 

“Yeah,” Rafael said, aiming for nonchalant and missing by a quarter-mile. He put his hand on the woman’s lower back and guided her into the cab, soundly shutting the door behind her. 

Rafael looked around, feeling like this was somehow an episode of Punk’d or something equally as humiliating. Shaking his head at his delusion, he crossed to the other side of the cab and fell in the back seat. 

The cab driver jerkily pulled away from the curb. “Where to, my friends,” he asked in a scratchy Brooklyn accent. 

“East Side Plaza for me, please,” the woman said with a smile. 

“Likewise,” said Rafael, a little too quickly without taking his eyes off of the woman. 

After a beat of silence, “What?” she asked, exasperated. 

“Oh, um, I’m sorry,” Rafael said, a bit flustered, “you’re just really pretty.” 

The cab driver glanced in the rearview mirror, turned around to look at the pair in the back seat, and looked in the mirror again, feeling only secondhand embarrassment for Rafael. 

“Geez,” said the woman. “Is everyone in the city so flattering.” It wasn’t a question. 

“So you aren’t from around here?” asked Rafael, finally leveling into normal conversation. 

“No, I’m from Boise. Idaho,” she said.

“Nice, nice: home of the potato. Love potatoes; love potato chips, potato fries, baked potatoes,” Rafael rambled. “What do you do?” he asked. 

The cab driver shook his head. 

The woman smiled skeptically. “I’m in school. Well, I’m actually taking a year off to help my grandfather. He’s in poor health and none of my other family members can leave the farm long enough to take care of him,” she said. “He’s stubborn: refuses to leave the city.”

The cab pulled up in the plaza. “Well, if you’re ever free, I’d love to buy you a drink sometime,” Rafael said, mentally planning an exit route if things went south. 

“Wow,” the woman said, glancing up at the cab driver. “Yeah,” she said, patting her chest. “Sorry, do you have a pen? Normally I’m wearing something with a pocket.” 

Rafael patted his pockets and came up empty-handed, too. “Just tell me your number and I’ll write it down when I get where I’m going,” Rafael said. 

“I can run into my grandpa’s and grab a pen. He has a ground floor apartment, I can be back in two seconds,” the woman said. 

Rafael’s stomach flipped. “Wow,” he said, throwing open the door of the cab. “I get it. Very funny. You got me.” 

“What?” 

“You could’ve just said no, but you went the extra mile. Nice,” Rafael threw cash through the partition and ducked out of the cab.

The woman apologized to the cab driver and got out, too. She took several long strides to catch up to Rafael walking down the sidewalk. 

“Wait,” she said, reaching out to grab Rafael’s arm. He spun around angrily, but immediately cooled down when he saw the earnest expression on her face. “I really do want your number,” she said. 

“I’m so sorry,” Rafael spilled out. “I thought,” he hesitated to tell her what he thought had happened because he didn’t want to make any implications. He laughed awkwardly. “Never mind, I’m so sorry. Please go get a pen,” he said, putting a soothing hand on her arm. “I want you to have my phone number.” Stop talking, Rafael. “And my email, just in case.” Shut up, Rafael. “Okay,” he laughed again, self-hatred bubbling over as she turned around to find a pen. 

“Hey, before you grab the pen?” Rafael called. “My name is Rafael. I didn’t catch yours.” 

“It’s Nick,” she said. 

“Nic?” Rafael asked, “What’s that short for?” 

“You don’t know what Nick is short for?” she asked jokingly. Rafael watched her walk all the way into an apartment building. 

He went ahead and set a 20-minute timer on his watch. He insisted to himself that that was a reasonable amount of time for her to check on her grandfather and get a pen, but any more than that and he was desperate. 

Rafael quickly learned that all of this was unnecessary because he watched her reemerge, waving a pen in the air less than two minutes later. 

The moment Rafael stepped into his apartment, he dialed Rita’s number. “Hey, fancy pants. Get your dancing shoes on; we’re going out. I heard about a new club that just opened up on the Lower East Side.”


End file.
